


Roses are Red...

by madselyn



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: But you can read it as plantonic, Flowers, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I am so horrible at tags, I wrote this for me and my friends literally while this stream was happening, If I tag anything wrong please don’t kill me im sorry, Light Angst, M/M, Very Minor, idk guys, implied dnf, its very fluff, karlnap, minor though, they pressured me into publishing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madselyn/pseuds/madselyn
Summary: Roses are red.George knows that. He may not be able to see it. But he still knows. It’s the way he knows the sky is pink in the morning, the dandelions are yellow, pumpkins are orange, and roses are red. It’s a constant that may not affect him, but it’s a constant nonetheless. As constant as Karl’s laughter and Sapnap’s loyalty. He just knows.It the way he use to know Dream was green.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Karl Jacobs & Sapnap
Kudos: 13





	Roses are Red...

**Author's Note:**

> Guys PLEASE.
> 
> Listen, I do not like this fic. My friends like this fic. I was forced to publish it. Please, if you hate it I UNDERSTAND. Just take pity on my poor soul and keep it to yourself. If, for some reason, you like it, I love comments. 
> 
> Also, friendly reminder that this is PURELY their characters and if they ever found it and wanted it erased from existence (as I do) I would take it down in a heartbeat. 
> 
> Have a nice day <3

Roses are red.

George knows that. He may not be able to see it. But he still  knows. It’s the way he knows the sky is pink in the morning, the dandelions are yellow, pumpkins are orange, and roses are red. It’s a constant that may not affect him, but it’s a constant nonetheless. As constant as Karl’s laughter and Sapnap’s loyalty. He just knows.

It the way he use to know Dream was green.

_ “Wait! You’re actually green! Come here! Stand next to this flower!” _

_ “George!” _

Roses are red and memories hurt. George didn’t think anything of the flowers at first. He enjoyed the new home Karl wanted to make. He wouldn’t lie, leaving L’Manburg made him feel uneasy. Maybe it’s because it was all he had ever known. He’d built some of the land himself. He had been king. Maybe not the best, he’ll admit, but that was home.

Or it had been.

But what was home? A nation that was more a hole than a place to live? A house that had burned? A city in shambles? Was that home?

Maybe leaving the place he had called home was hard because of all the manipulation.

_ Dream. _

The memories did not hit until they had down time. Building a new nation was harder than he thought and dare he say, he understood why Wilbur had fought so hard for his own. Every morning he would get up and get to work, building the new home with Sapnap and Karl. It was odd to have an actual purpose but not at the same time. He could wake up and decide not to do anything and that was okay. Or he could wake up and work all day. Most days it was the later, doing anything to keep his mind off of everything.

To keep his mind off of a massive building looming miles away but feeling like it was right behind him. To keep his mind off of a dark cell, lit by lava and lava only. To keep his mind off of the empty space next to him every night and the laughter that use to be infectious.

The day George noticed the flowers, he had gone back into his new house and hadn’t left his bed.

Roses are red, memories hurt, and old wounds can still bleed.

But all things heal.

It started small and shit, it wasn’t easy. It started one night when Karl and Sapnap invited him out for a break. They’d worked all day, fishing in the lake and taking care of the new dolphins that had come up river for the season. The new crop of flowers had infiltrated their fields and while it was beautiful, if George never had to pick another daisy again it would be too soon. He had at least four bundles around his house and had planted some outside in his yard.

Daisies were the easiest. They had no color so they had no memories. They were just white. He liked daisies. He’s could handle daises.

“George, if you sleep in any longer the sun will rise before you!” Karl’s giggle drifted in through his open window.

The summer months were George’s favorite in their new home. It was warm but not overbearing. It rained often because of topical showers and he’d be lying if he didn’t sit by the windows every night and watch the storm over the sea. A book could often be found in his lap but the pages left untouched. Sometimes he would wonder if green eyes were watching the same storm, the same lightning strike, and thinking about the other across the water.

Then he remembered those green eyes were lock away and hadn’t seen a storm in years.

Storms were hard too.

Karl had been lending him books from the library he’d been building. He’d come clean about his...  _ condition _ soon after they’d moved to the flower fields. It would be hard to hide leaving for a long period of time, especially when he was living with someone else. He’d finally broken down after they’d found him in L’Manburg, looking for a home that didn’t exist anymore.

He’d forgotten. For a moment, he didn’t know what was wrong.

Sapnap had stayed with him that night and since then, Karl had stayed forever.

Nothing needed to be fixed anymore. The villain was gone. They had moved on. Together.

Now Sapnap had a farm and Karl ran an archive library on the history of their world. Not their past, but  _ them _ _._ The story of L’Manburg and the wars. Wars that had stopped raging throughout their land. Sometimes Ghostbur would pop in, ecstatic that someone was telling his story. Sapnap always left a stall open and extra hay for Friend when the apparition visited.

George was happy for them.

Sapnap had broken down in his own way. It had been random and out of the blue. George had been very unprepared and he was horrible with feelings. He always was. It’s not like he didn’t care—he  _ did. _ He loved them but sometimes he was just bad at it.

It had just been the two of them like the old days. They’d gone mining for some extra resources and to chop trees. Karl had stayed at home, getting into one of his moods where he just wanted to write. He normally got like that when he wanted to leave and travel. Writing grounded him and so did Sapnap.

It was disgusting and George wouldn’t admit he was beyond happy for them.

Dream had once grounded him.

They had been mining and Sapnap had mentioned returning to L’Manburg and seeing Dream. George had froze and clenched his jaw. Sapnap kept going and George realized he was rambling. He had stopped chopping into the thin oak and turned to his friend. The war veteran was waving his hands wildly and talking rapidly. 

George grabbed his hands and Sapnap stopped everything, staring at him with wide, red eyes. They said more than his words had and he knew Sapnap was still clinging to the normalcy that they use to know. He should have seen it. Sapnap always mentioned going too far from the prison or mention...  _ him _ _._ He knew he was still thinking they would wake up in the community house and fool around. That they would wake up and find the missing piece they both had lost.

George wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t. But he wanted to be.

“We aren’t going back, Sapnap.”

Red leaked blue and George only knew because that what he had been told. It was funny sometimes how screwed up the world was to him and yet it was always worse. Something was always worse than not seeing the world for what it was. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t seen Dream for what he was.

He was blind.

“We are home.”

George isn’t surprised he broke last. He was in denial and he was bad at emotions. He just was bad at trying to understand what he was feelings. He liked to have straight answers and just  _know._ He knows roses are red, memories hurt, old wounds can still bleed, and he was in denial. He knows that and he likes knowing that because it’s at least an answers.

Why the flowers hurt him? That’s not a clean answer.

So he ignores it and he goes out with Sapnap and Karl to see the stars.

It’s a clear night, George’s glasses left on a table somewhere in his house. He’d stopped wearing them soon after they’d moved. They were a tainted part of him he didn’t want anymore. He no longer felt the need to cover his chromatic eyes, no longer felt lesser, no longer felt like he needed to be ashamed.

It’s a clear night and George grinned up at the stars.

Roses are red, memories hurt, old wounds can still bleed, he’s in denial, and the stars are bright.

“That’s Cygnus.” Sapnap pointed up towards the sky, the warmth of the summer breeze stirred the flowers around them.

“No dumbass, that’s Orion’s Belt.” Karl snorted, braiding daisies into a circle, stopping often to make sure it would fit on Sapnap’s head.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a penis,” George rolled his eyes.

“ _George!_ ”

The laughter that carried around them was good. It was all  _ good. _ For the first time in their entire lives they were free. They had built this place from the ground up with their bare hands. Hope and love and freedom. It’s what their home should have been.

It’s just... home.

George closes his eyes and realizing something. Something he’s known for a while now.

George knows roses are red, memories hurt, old wounds can still bleed, he’s in denial, the stars are bright, and he is happy.

He grins and lets himself drift. He’s not sleeping but he’s at peace, the grass soft and the flowers leaving a sweet scent in the air. Karl and Sapnap’s soft murmuring is comforting and he’s okay. He’d slept all day to be able to stay up with them for the night but can’t help falling silent, just enjoying the moment. The stars twinkle above them and he reaches out, as if he could catch them.

“ _We’re in the stars!_ ”

He pushed the thought away. He’s okay right now and he’s not losing that to someone who doesn’t exist anymore. He’s okay and that’s okay and he’s home.

Something settles onto the top of his head and he furrows his eyebrows before opening his eyes. Karl’s leaning over top of him with a soft smile, Sapnap’s head still in his lap. They are looking at him and he tilts his head slightly, the weight on top of his head shifting with it.

He reaches up and feels the soft pedals beneath his fingers.  _ A flower crown _ _._ He smiled back at them and pulls it down to see the colors. It’s simple, violets weaved together perfectly to form a circle. He holds it between his hands, carful not to break anything, and realizes he’s shaking. He’s shaking and suddenly his vision is blurring and his throat is tight and—

“ _Is blue your favorite color, George?_ ”

“ _Yeah._ ”

He looks up to the stars and realizes another thing. Something he has known for a very, very long time.

“I miss him,” he breathes and George finally breaks.

Karl and Sapnap are there to pick up the pieces.

Their land becomes their home and everyday it gets easier. He stops being in denial and he starts talking when it gets hard. When the days feel impossible and drawl towards a place he hasn’t been in a long time calls him. The same way Karl clings to them as if he’s trying to stay and the way Sapnap is a little overprotective. They hold onto each other because they are home. They are home and they are okay.

The distant becomes smaller and the pain becomes less. It’s never gone and it’ll never be gone. Nights under the stars heal and it becomes better. But slowly, they open themselves to more people. Tommy comes and visits with Tubbo, helping to take care of the animals on the farm at times. The rift between Sapnap and them heals. Ranboo visits to use the library, also overjoyed someone understands him. Karl takes him under his wing. Bad stops often, back to himself after Tommy and Sam got rid of the egg. George hears Sam is taking care of him now and he’s happy for the kid. Bad brings them news from L’Manburg and keeps them updated. He struggles with the loss too but can’t bring himself to leave his home. Their home isn’t only theirs now and that’s okay. They are happy.

George knows roses are red, memories hurt, old wounds can still bleed, he was no longer in denial, the stars are bright, and he is happy.

Oh, and violets are blue. 


End file.
